


At The Boardwalk

by sciencebluefeelings



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 11:31:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20470319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sciencebluefeelings/pseuds/sciencebluefeelings
Summary: Jim and Spock Prime go to the beach.





	At The Boardwalk

“What’s up, old man?”

The comm screen comes into focus and Jim beams at the sight of Spock. The older Vulcan’s eyes are warm. “Jim. How are you?”

Jim sinks further back into the pillows of his bed. “Tired. Good. Really good,” Jim sighs. “Now that I’m talking to you.”

Spock avoids addressing the easy confession. “And your first officer?”

Jim purses his lips, displeased. Spock asks about his counterpart every fucking time Jim calls. Or more specifically, the state of Jim’s relationship with him - and if said state has changed (romantically) since the last time they talked.

“You know, he’s your counterpart but you’re not existing to accommodate him,” Jim says, his tone shorter than it usually is. 

“It is not an accommodation, to be together is the first and best destiny of both of you.” All the same words, the same barriers. 

Jim huffs. “Spock’s doing fine. We’re still best friends, and no, we’re still not interested in dating each other.”

“His relationship with Uhura has been terminated for quite some time now,” Spock begins. “It is unusual that he would still-”

“Let’s not talk about him,” Jim interrupts in a loud voice. “I wanna hear about how _ you’re _doing. How is the colony?”

Spock eyes Jim with that familiar, complicated mix of despair and hope. Thankfully he acquiesces to Jim’s change of topic, and proceeds to share some interesting stories about the new laboratory recruits. He then listens eagerly to Jim’s retellings of the calamity that the _ Enterprise _endured during the week.

Jim remembers what it was like when he first started calling Spock. The confident bravado meant nothing to those knowing eyes. Jim found himself watching his words like never before, afraid of saying something wrong, something that would make the older Vulcan cut him off forever. Some of that fear still lingers, especially when Spock questions the amount of time Jim spends with him in comparison to his first officer.

“Jim, what is it that you wish to tell me?”

Jim stops mid-sentence. “Wha?”

Spock looks amused. “Your length of conversation has extended six point three oh minutes past your usual average speaking time. Furthermore, your expression indicates some extraneous thought is distracting you. You are delaying telling me something.”

Oh, the joys of dealing with a hyper-attentive Vulcan that pined for your counterpart in another universe for longer than you’ve been alive.

Jim coughs. “Um. So our crew is going on shore leave in a week.”

“I see.”

“Bones is going to some important science convention with your counterpart - hopefully they both come back in one piece. Sulu’s busy, Uhura and Gaila are visiting family too. The others are doing their own things.”

Spock makes a noncommittal noise in response.

Jim was never good at being patient. His voice comes out all at once in a rush. “So, is it okay if I come visit you again?”

“I apologize, Jim. I will not be on New Vulcan at the time of your shore leave.”

Jim frowns, caught off guard by this unexpected information. “Where are you going?”

“In a week I will be traveling to an oceanside city on planet Parva II to oversee a new experiment in an individual capacity.”

“You’re going to the _beach?” _Jim says, amused. “And I’m not invited?”

“Ten point five two years ago, the location was a sparsely populated ocean resort. All of the business moved far northward, and the land has been abandoned for several years now.” Spock hesitates. “I would - invite you to join me, but there would be little for you to enjoy. As I mentioned, the resort no longer exists. Further, all electronic systems, including communicators, would be disabled for the duration of the experiment. There are not any residents at the shore side that you would be able to interact with.“

“So it’s okay? If I come with you?”

Spock raises an eyebrow. “Were you even listening to anything I said?”

“What I heard was, ‘Oh, my dearest Jim, please keep lonely old me company at this desolate science outpost.’”

Spock chuckles at that, a soft and carefree sound that makes Jim hot and cold all at once. 

“My temporary residence near the outpost will be a highly accommodating ocean front room,” the old Vulcan finally says. 

Jim laughs, and he doesn’t know if it’s from the joke or the relief rushing over him. “You don’t need to convince me to join you, old man. You just had to ask.”

*

Jim leans on the balcony railing and breathes in the tang of salt in the wind. The torrential downpour that greeted Spock and Jim is mostly over, but the clouds remain dark and turbulent. 

Jim picks at the hem of his ratty old tank top. The washing machine fills the silence in the background, cleaning their rain-drenched clothing. The hotel room thermostat is broken, so Spock left the room to find extra blankets.

“_Have you finished all your final communications, Jim? _ ” Jim turns at the sound of Spock’s voice. “_Do not forget, you will not be able to access your communicator or PADD for the next three days._”

It takes a moment for Jim to figure out what is different about Spock’s voice. He blinks in realization. Among the multiple electronic devices that needed to be disabled is, of course, the universal translator.

Jim switches to Vulcan without a hitch. “I like the sound of your voice without the UT in the way, Ambassador,” he purrs.

A faint blush appears on Spock’s ears. “_The effects of the Universal Translator are negligible even to a trained ear,_” he says, still using Standard. “_Your preference is most illogical._”

“_Okay, Mister Vulcan._” Jim watches Spock unpack his suitcase with careful precision. The final item Spock removes are a spare pair of sandals, which he tucks out of the way under one of the beds.

Upon first entering the hotel room, the sight of the two beds instantly cleared the fantasies swirling in Jim’s mind - a sobering reminder of the reality of Jim’s current relationship with Spock.

Spock joins Jim in standing on the tiny balcony, looking out at the ocean view. Another half step closer, and their bodies would be pressed together.

“_I was aware of your expertise in the Vulcan language_,” Spock says, “_But I never had the opportunity to ask how you acquired it._” He pauses. “_It is - a skill that differentiates you from your counterpart_."

Spock has been referring to his counterpart less and less, probably out of consideration for Jim, who has never been comfortable with the comparisons. But Jim can’t help but hope when Spock lets his gaze linger a little too long, eyes full of a different kind of longing, different from when they first began talking to each other.

Jim lets his gaze trail over Spock’s fingers, loosely resting on the balcony railing. “There was a large Vulcan family on Tarsus IV. I spent almost all my time in their company.” 

Spock doesn’t ask if the family survived or not. Just touches his finger to Jim’s, projecting gentle comfort.

Jim grins at him. “Hey, let’s go to _the beach_.”

Spock looks out at the darkening sky and then gives Jim a flat stare. “I believe the more suitable action would be to find dinner.”

Oh. Yeah. Food’s a thing. “_Ice cream_,” Jim declares.

Spock’s eyes sparkle. “Last I checked, _ ice cream _isn’t a meal.”

“Not with that kind of attitude.” Jim tugs Spock through the doorway. Spock allows himself to be led with a reluctant smile.

*

“_ Jim, I highly recommend you reconsider your endeavors to balance on the boardwalk railing. I do not trust its structural integrity to support you. _”

With his arms still held up for balance, Jim turns all the way around, shooting a cheeky grin at Spock. “_Oooh, careful there, Mister Vulcan. Was that concern I heard in your voice?_” He starts stepping backwards with the same confident gait, occasionally craning his head to see where the railing ended.

“_The boardwalk has not seen maintenance in several years. Furthermore, the probability of incurring injury is heightened by the recent rainfall. The precipitation has not been given sufficient time to evaporate from the metal._”

“_God,_” Jim huffs. He leaps off the boardwalk railing onto the damp sand, which cushions his descent. He mutters under his breath, “_You push me away and then you go and say things like that. Are you worried about me or not? Make up your mind._”

Spock is still for a moment. His hair is disheveled from the ocean wind. The scant lighting along the boardwalk deepens the shadows masking his worn face.

“I will always worry about you, Jim,” Spock says in a soft voice. 

Jim’s throat goes tight. It’s so unfair. He looks up at Spock, who is still elevated by the boardwalk. He spreads his arms. 

“Jump. I’ll catch you.”

Spock raises an eyebrow. “You still want to go to the water? There will be nothing to see in such darkness.”

Jim keeps his arms extended towards Spock. “Aren’t you curious what it looks like at night?”

“_The ocean _ is terrifying enough during the day.” Spock shakes his head, but he grips the railing and climbs over. Jim sees the moment Spock tenses, then lightly hops down to Jim’s waiting embrace.

Jim already knows the Vulcan is far lighter than he looks.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re irrationally scared.” Jim clutches his hands around that slim waist a moment longer. He admires that maddening, efficient Vulcan body, taller than Jim and full of controlled strength.

“It is perfectly rational,” Spock replies, undeterred. “_The ocean _ is a highly dangerous place.”

Jim still hasn’t let go of Spock, but Spock has also not removed his hands from Jim’s bare shoulders. At this angle, Jim can see the grey fuzz peeking over the plunging neckline of Spock’s robe. He wonders if the hair is as soft as it looks. It’s only when Spock shyly turns his body away that Jim realizes he was staring. He feels the blush heat up his entire face.

Spock doesn’t say anything. He leads the way across the sand, further and further away from the lights of the boardwalk. The sand is damp and easy to walk on, covered in a layer of shallow dimples from the brief but violent rainfall.

The sound of the waves intensify as they draw closer. The water is black like ink. The stars are still covered with clouds. The darkness of the sky melts into the water and it is impossible to tell where the horizon is.

Jim whoops into the night and rushes towards the water’s edge.

“Jim,” Spock begins, but Jim is already flinging off shoes and socks, hastily rolling up the bottoms of his threadbare pants.

“It can’t be that bad, right?” A wave rolls in, and he steps in without hesitation. “_Fuck, that’s cold!_” The second wave attacks before he can hop away, spraying him with ocean water. 

Spock laughs freely. Jim smirks and approaches. “Oh, no, old man. Don’t think you’re getting out of this!” He grabs Spock’s arms and tugs. “_Let’s go!_” Spock feigns at resistance, but Jim pulls him in and the water rushes in again, drenching them both.

Spock curses in Vulcan. Jim is suddenly aware he’s flying backwards. He lands in the water with a terrific splash. 

Jim struggles back to his feet, spluttering. “_That’s cheating!_” 

“_Your stance was already unstable, I was merely helping you along,_” Spock calls jovially in Standard.

Jim lunges at Spock, enveloping him in a salty, dripping wet hug. Spock is laughing again, chin on Jim’s shoulder. Hearing the sound right next to his ear is a visceral experience.

Jim stills, feeling that logical, efficient body press against his. Spock shifts as if to break free, but Jim doesn’t let go this time.

“Why can’t you accept that you’re the one I want?”

Spock’s breath hitches. He doesn’t respond, and for a moment Jim is gripped with a bolt of fear that he’s overstepped his boundaries.

“No, no, I apologize. The fault is my own. I’m the one that has gone too far.” Spock presses a kiss onto a drop of water running down Jim’s forehead, and Jim feels a pulse of distress through the contact. “I don’t want you and my counterpart to regret as I have for so long. And yet I cannot help but pursue you out of my own affections.”

The confession is weighted with defeat.

Jim takes a shaky breath. “_Spock. The truth - the truth is, well, you probably already knew, didn’t you? The truth is. . . I did have a crush on him._”

Spock doesn’t move.

Jim shuts his eyes. “_I was afraid of telling you. But, uh. Eventually I did confess to my first officer, after he broke up with Uhura._” Jim takes a breath. “_And my feelings aren't reciprocated. And you know what? I’m fine with that. I couldn’t ask for a better friend. Besides, there’s someone else that I’m in love with._”

Jim frames Spock’s handsome, worn face with his hands. “Spock what can I do to convince you?” His voice is small to his own ears. “It’s not him, not anyone else. It’s you.”

The water ebbs in and out around them, relentless. Endless.

Spock finally looks Jim in the eye. The distance boardwalk lights illuminate his faint smile. “_As the humans say, perhaps I should end this indecisive behavior and ‘take the plunge’ _.”

“_Hell yeah, you definitely should_.” Jim pushes Spock into the water in triumphant revenge.

But Spock catches himself before he falls over, using his momentum to flip Jim back into the freezing water. The last thing Jim hears before he submerges is Spock’s laughter.

Fucking Vulcan touch telepathy. 

The moment Jim surfaces, Spock leans down and presses a firm, demanding kiss to his lips. The kiss is salty, cold and gritty with particles of sand.

Jim couldn’t ask for something more perfect.

*

Somehow they make it back to the boardwalk. 

“_Ugh, seaweed._” Jim shakes out his shirt to no avail. “_I’m gonna need to change again._”

“_I lost one of my shoes._” Spock stares back at the vast blackness, his robe dripping wet. “_The probability of obtaining it again is infinitesimal._”

“_Looks like you’ll need those spare sandals, after all,_” Jim says with a laugh. “Should I carry you back to our room, old man?”

“That will be unnecessary.”

Spock doesn’t let go of Jim’s hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! (or reaching the bottom of the page ^^) I appreciate all kudos and any form of comments! especially the ones w emoji spam 💖💖✨✨
> 
> If you enjoyed this story, [you might like this fluffy ficlet of Jim waking up to find a good morning note left by Spock Prime](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23604106)


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